


If Monday Was a Person, It'd Be Her.

by revengeofthefans



Series: Warm Hearts [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeofthefans/pseuds/revengeofthefans
Summary: Dan gets caught kissing, looks like it's detention for him. Let's just say this teacher's methods are a little unorthodox.





	

Dan’s Pov

 

“Hey, I’ll see you later,” Phil says before giving me a quick kiss and leaving to go to class. I stand there for awhile before turning around to come face to face with the Devil. Umbridge.

 

“Detention, Mr. Howell. My office, 6 o’clock. Don’t be late, ”She says as she walks away. I hate that woman. She thinks she can replace Dumbledore. No one can replace Dumbledore.

 

\-----------------------------------------Time Skip----------------------------------------------------

 

“Hi. How was your day?” Phil says as I flop down beside him.

“I have detention,” I respond.

 

“Why?” he asks.

 

“Umbridge saw us kissing. Well she saw me. I don’t think she saw you.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he says.

 

“Don’t be. I’d have detention a hundred times over before I stop kissing you,” I say. Phil blushes and ducks his head down to hide it.

 

“Crap, I’ve got to go,” I say as I rush off. I knock on the door and it flings open.

 

“Mr. Howell, how nice of you to show up. You’re lucky you’re not late,” She sneers. “I’ll make it easy on you, if you tell me who you were kissing,” She says in a fake sweet tone. 

 

“I’d rather take the hard way,” I answer. I would never give up Phil, especially not to this woman.

 

“Fine, have a seat. You are to write lines until I tell you to stop. I have a special quill for you to use,” She says before handing me a quill and a piece of parchment.

 

“I don’t have any ink,” I say.

 

“You won’t need any. I want you to write I will not kiss boys. No complaining. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.”

 

I press the quill to the parchment and began to write. I feel a tingling in my hand, but I ignore it. As I write the tingling turns to pain, I look at my hand. The words I will not kiss boys are cut into my hand. What kind of dark magic is this? I look at my paper, the ink that I had thought was black was actually a dark red. The color looking almost exactly like blood. It can’t be, can it? I hear a little cough and look up. Umbridge is staring at me, she motions toward her paper. I start writing again for fear that if I stop, she’ll make me write more. Blood is freely flowing down my hand and is staining the parchment. I will not kiss boys. I will not kiss boys. I will not kiss boys. Lines after lines after lines, I write, not daring to stop. The words are cut into my hand. A chair shuffles backwards, I don’t look up. Footsteps come behind me, I don’t look up. Umbridge takes my hand and brings it closer to her. She studies it.

 

“This looks good. Hopefully the message sinks in. You’re free to go,” She says. I quickly pack up my bag and rush out of the room. I cradle my hand to my chest. The blood is dripping on my shirt, staining it red, the white turning scarlet. The shirt is probably ruined by now, but I could care less. There is no one out this late, which I’m grateful for, I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I keep my head down and fast walk to the dungeons. I smack into someone and nearly go tumbling to the floor. The person grabs my arms and steadied me. Phil is standing in front of me. In the dim light of the candles, I see a smile break out over his face. 

 

“Wow, she sure kept you late,” Phil comments, backing up from where we had been pressed together.

 

“Yeah, she did,” I say moving my hand discreetly behind my back.

 

“What did she make you do?” He asks.

 

“I just had to write lines,” I answer. My hand is slowly dripping blood on the floor. Please, don’t let Phil notice. 

 

“Oh, that sucks,” he says squinting a little. “Is that blood on your shirt? Are you okay?” he asks.

 

“I’m fine. I just had a nosebleed,” I lie.

 

“Dan, why are you lying to me? What happened? Why are you hiding your hand?” He asks.

 

“I’m not lying. Nothing happened,” I answer. Phil moves like a snake as he strikes and grabs my hand. I try to pull it back, but his grip is too tight. He pulls it up to his face and stares at it. He looks at me then back at my hand. He lets out a squeak. He is speechless. Phil pulls me to him and my body melts into him.

 

“Did she do this?” he asks. I nod.

 

“Why? Tell me the truth.”

 

“I wouldn’t tell her who I was kissing,” I say.

 

“I’m so sorry. You should have just gave me up,” he says.

 

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I couldn’t give you up,” I say. He nods sadly. 

 

“I’ll take you to my dorm. We need to clean up your hand, and the hospital wing is closed at this time. I have a first aid kit,” Phil says, carefully taking my non injured hand and leads me to his dorm. He pull me past the kitchens and the Hufflepuff commons area. He pulls me up the stairs and sits me on his bed. He grabs his first aid kit and pulls out a salve. He applies it to the cuts and I wince.

 

“Sorry, sorry. Tomorrow you are going to the hospital wing and getting it checked out by an actual healer. How long did you write before realizing it was cutting into your hand?”

 

“I wrote about ten or so line before the pain got too much to ignore and I looked over at it. She made me use a special quill that uses your blood as ink.”

 

“How many lines did you write?” Phil asks.

 

“I don’t know, maybe eighty, possible ninety.” I say as Phil finishes wrapping a bandage around my hand.

 

“You’re staying here tonight. I don’t want you out of my sight,” he says pulling off his shoes. He grabs us both a pair of pajamas. I turn and face away from him, while I get dressed. I sit on the bed and stare at my bloody shirt. It’s properly ruined now. 

 

“There is probably a spell somewhere that can get that it,” Phil says gently taking it from me and flinging it on the floor. Phil climbs under the covers, dragging me with him. I burry my head in his chest. His arms wrap around me, pulling me impossibly closer.

 

“I think Umbridge is just jealous that no one wants to kiss her,” Phil says.

 

“Are you saying that someone wants to kiss me?” I ask, laughing. Phil nods leaning in. The kiss is passionate, but in an entirely different way. It is full of reassurance and love.

 

“I love you,” Phil whispers to me.

 

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please send me prompts. I really want to continue this series, but I need inspiration.


End file.
